


To Hell and Back

by LindaOnASkateboard



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Discord: Bellamione Coven, F/F, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-01-04 04:27:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21191555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LindaOnASkateboard/pseuds/LindaOnASkateboard
Summary: When Hermione dies during the Battle of Hogwarts, she decides she belongs in Hell. But a demon Bellatrix Lestrange thinks differently.





	1. Old Friends

**Author's Note:**

> I know this has been super hyped in the discord, I just hope it lives up to it lmao. Have fun y'all. I'm also really trying to add chapter title so if they suck I'm sorry.

The first thing Hermione remembers as she stands in front of the odd array of creatures, is the death of her good friend, the death she caused. Neville wasn’t cut out for war, he wasn’t meant to be there, and a stray curse from her had killed him. Her body trembles, holding back sobs. The creatures in front of her looks bored though, so she does her best to keep her composure.

“Are you quite finished, miss Granger? We have a strict schedule to stick to,” the one in the middle says, a booming voice coming from the comically large humanoid.

“Y-yes, I think. Where am I?” a howling laugh comes from the very last creature, a tiny thing, comparatively speaking, with curling horns and eyes a swirling pool of deep red. 

“Silence!” the middle creature cuts in, “Hermione, where do you think you are, where do you think you belong?”

“I’m not sure what you mean, am I dead?”

“Ah, a quick one I see, it tends to take people a lot longer than that to figure it out. Yes, you’re dead. Where, in death, do you think you belong?” Everything awful Hermione had done plays through her brain, ending with the gruesome death of her beloved friend.

“Well, I’m not sure of the choices, but I think I deserve punishment for what I did to Neville.”

“And do we think it should last for eternity?” The middle one asks his council. They converse in a language Hermione can’t understand. She’s nervous for what they’re going to say, not quite sure what a punishment would entail. After some time, they seem to come to a conclusion.

“Hermione Jean Granger, you are hereby sentenced to three hundred years in the libraries of Hell, after that, there will be a retrial where we decide if you’ve learned your lesson.” Hermione is just as confused as she’s ever been, but she doesn’t see any reason to say anything else. 

The next time Hermione wakes up, she's in endless libraries, millions of books lead to millions more as far as the eye can see. 

“This must be a mistake, there’s no way this isn’t heaven.” Hermione murmurs to herself.

“No, it’s not. Open a book, dimwit.” A voice behind her says, Hermione is offended by the nickname, but her surprise at hearing another person far outweighs it.

“I’m no dimwit,” Hermione says indignantly, reaching for the first book she sees. She flips it open and the words race to another page, she chases them through the book until she gets to the end, where they quickly backtrack to the first page.

“So this is my personal hell?” she whispers, expecting the voice to have gone by now.

“No, your personal hell would be much worse. This is where they put you because you thought you were bad and needed punishment for your deeds.” Hermione whirls around to see the person who owns the voice. Whatever response she had planned fell from her lips as her mouth dropped open at the pretty woman standing just feet from her. Something about her seemed familiar, but she couldn’t put her finger on it.

“Who are you?” Hermione asks as smoothly as possible, doing her best to pick her jaw up off the floor at the same time.

“I’m Bella,” she pauses, “and I hope you don’t mind, but I’ll call you pet,”

“Actually,” Hermione begins, but she’s cut off abruptly.

“It wasn’t a question, and I don’t actually care if you mind, you’re pet to me now, pet.” Hermione rolls her eyes at this, not wanting to deal with this infuriating woman, no matter how pretty her perfect curls looked framing her pale face.

“Why are you here?” 

“Well that's a rather rude question now isn’t it?”

“I just- never mind!” Hermione throws her arms up in frustration, this woman must be her personal hell, not the words running from her. Walking is the only thing she can do for entertainment, and walk she does. 

The clacking of heels against marble follows her for what feels like an eternity. The swishing of her skirts may have been welcome company if they weren’t attached to such an annoyingly perfect woman. No, this is not going to fly at all.

“Would you leave me alone?” Hermione stops abruptly, the moment she turns, Bella stops as well.

“I’m not doing anything, I’m just another useless, wandering soul in the same hell you are.”

“Well can’t you walk in the other direction? This damned library goes on forever.”

“I could, but I really don’t want to, you’re the only company I’ve got.”

“Fine, then let’s talk,”

Hours slip by like minutes as Bella jokes and talks about her time on Earth. Hermione isn’t quite ready to talk about the life she lost though, but Bella seems to understand. Bella’s hand reaches into the seam pocket of her skirt, pulling out a pocket-sized wizard chess set.

“Whoa, is that allowed?” Hermione asks, looking at the game like its a treasure straight from a storybook.

“Well, technically, none of this is allowed. We’re supposed to spend our time alone, but I don’t want to be alone, and not even Satan himself can make me do what I don’t want to.”

They settle down on the floor, there aren’t any tables and Hermione has a suspicion that walking further would be more of the same books she can’t even read.

Days of wizard chess and conversation bleed into months of the same, but an alarm screeching across the library breaks them out of their trance.

“I’m assuming by my perceived passage of time and the urgency of that alarm, that that isn’t the alarm for my retrial,” Hermione says, a hint of panic in her voice.

“Don’t freak out, but I think they caught us,” Bella says, packing the game up as if they’ve just decided they were done. No hint of hurry to her movements.

“What do we do?” Hermione’s asks, panicked.

“I know a way out of here, follow closely.” A cold hand grabs Hermione by the wrist, not giving her any choice but to follow. Bookcases move out of the way for Bella as if she’s controlling them, a new path on the other side, there are no more books passed these, just a winding staircase made of the same marble that the library floors are made of. 

“You go ahead, I’ll take up the rear. I hopefully hold enough weight up here to avoid a second death,” Bella frantically surveys their surroundings, looking for any signs of danger.

“Weight? Why would you hold any weight?”

“Too many questions, pet, just start climbing.” 

The stairs wound around and around endlessly, and even Hermione’s spirit form wasn’t ready for this much cardio. Bella didn’t seem bothered by this at all, no, she almost seemed to enjoy the running. There seems to be a light slowly and steadily growing above them as they climb.

“Where do you want to go?” Bella asks, the top of the stairs hidden only by the blinding light.

“Go? I get to choose?” 

“Yes, it’s a portal, it doesn’t just let out in a meadow somewhere, now choose quickly, I’m sure Lucifer has heard the news of this already.”

“Hogwarts, then, that’s my home.” Hermione says, excitement swelling in her chest now that she knows she’ll see her friends again.

“How very sweet, lets go, quickly,” Bella’s tone makes it clear that she wants out of there now.

Running through the portal was like a breath of fresh air. Hermione didn’t realize how stuffy that library had truly been. But here they are, by the lake she’d spent quite a bit of time by during her years here. Then she looks to the castle, worried at the amount of damage that had happened after she died in the war. Really, there wasn’t much, and it seemed to be well on the way to repair. Hermione runs for the castle, not sure what she’ll do when she gets there except sob at the sight of all of her friends and teachers. A hand grabs her arm, a harsh grip that she never thought Bella capable of.

“Look, you can’t just go traipsing in through the front door as if they didn’t bury you months ago. We’ll stay in the woods until the night, then we’ll sneak in and talk to whoever's in charge.” Bella’s eyes seem to hold something she’s not saying, but Hermione is too excited to ask.

“Alright, we’ll wait. But I’m sure everyone will be happy to see me, I mean, this means we can get the others back, right?”

The hopeful look on Hermione’s face was enough to break Bella’s heart. How was she going to tell this poor girl that there was no way to get her friends back, no way to go back to hell except dying.

“No, I’m sorry pet but they can’t come back. Death is typically a one-way ticket.” Bella tries keeping her tone even, not wanting to give away that she actually cares. It’ll just make this goodbye that much harder.

“Oh, are you sure? You got us out of there with relative ease,”

“Come, lets go sit in the woods until nightfall, we can talk more there.”

Hermione doesn’t take the fact that her friends are stuck very well, nor does she take the fact that she can’t even see them again very well. In fact, after the initial adrenaline rush, she’s not taking any of this well. She crying into the knees of her worn jeans as Bella watches awkwardly, having absolutely no clue how to deal with this much emotion from one person. A light pat on the shoulder and a soft “it’s okay” is all she can muster to try and comfort her companion for the past few months.

Time drags on and slowly all of the dead leaves on the ground have been meticulously torn to pieces in Bella’s hands. The sun begins to set and Bella is thankful that they’ll be leaving this spot soon. She still needs to tell the girl that she’ll be leaving as soon as they get there, but there hasn’t been time. Their mutual silence has been too fragile to break, and she’s worried Hermione will burst into even more tears.

After the leaves are all torn up, Bella moves on to the twigs, and then on to pulling apart all of tiny blades of dying grass. Bella then shifts to a different spot and beings the process of this again. Time passes like a slug while Bella has nothing but Hermione’s even breathing and the destruction of foliage to entertain her.

“We ought to be getting there, pet, it's finally dark enough.” Bella says, the moon finally showing its face from behind the clouds, almost halfway through its journey through the night sky.

“Oh, already?” Hermione says, clearly having taken a nap while her face was buried in her arms.

They begin their walk, neither of them saying a word. Before they know it, they’re at the door of the castle, and Hermione finds herself afraid of what lies beyond. The door creaks and they make their way to the headmaster’s office where McGonagall would be by now.

After a brief argument with the gargoyle, and some colorful threats on Bella’s end, they get through and Hermione runs up the stairs to the door of the office, hesitating only slightly before knocking. The door opens almost immediately and Hermione nearly tackles her professor in a hug.

“Miss Granger,” McGonagall manages to say, not sure of what else really could be said, “you’re, uh, you’re alive?” Her eyes flicker briefly to the dark woman standing off to the side, seemingly trying to make herself smaller.

“Yes, I’m back! Oh it’s so good to be back.”

“You didn’t make a deal with that demon did you,” McGonagall asks, giving Bella the side eye and putting a protective arm over Hermione’s shoulder.

“Demon? I don’t know what you mean, she’s just-” Hermione pauses, “Bella, what are you?” 

“I didn’t figure that was necessary information to share, but if you must know, I am a demon, and I would never take advantage of a friend who kept me company.”

“Well, that doesn’t really matter right now. Hermione, please sit with me for some tea, we’ll talk more about your current situation and what steps we’ll be taking next.” McGonagall says, purposely avoiding speaking to Bella at all throughout all of this. Bella pulls a chair next to Hermione’s and opposite McGonagall’s.

“I don’t recall asking you to join us,” The professor says, anger clear in her voice.

“Funny, because I don’t recall asking your permission,” Bella has an indignant look on her face, almost begging the woman to say another word to her.

“Look Hermione, if you want to talk to me, you’ll have to kick the demon out, I don’t want her listening in on our meeting.” Hermione shoots a pleading look at Bella when McGonagall says this.

“Don’t worry pet, just tell me where to go hang out for your little meeting.” 

After Hermione briefly explains to Bella where the deserted dining hall would be, Bella heads out, grateful to be out of the presence of the woman for just a few minutes to sort her thoughts out.

“I hope you understand the gravity of this situation, miss Granger,” McGonagall begins, standing up and pacing.

“I’m sorry but I don’t. I thought you’d be happy to see me back, maybe you’d ask how to get the others back. Bella says we can’t but there has to be a way if I could-”

“Miss Granger! This magic is forbidden, I don’t know what part of that you don’t understand. Not to mention that demon is no friend to you. Do you know who she used to be? Well that part doesn’t matter at the present moment.” She stops in front of the fireplace. “The short and long of it is that I have half a mind to contact the authorities and have you  _ both  _ sent back to hell,”

“Professor, you can’t do that, I won’t go back,” The anger flaring in Hermione’s eyes puts an idea in McGonagall’s head.

“Fine, I won’t, but you have to leave tomorrow, and I don’t want to see you two again or I’m going to call every auror I know.” She gets a softer look in her eye, “you can stay in the empty classroom right off the stairwell to the second floor, you’ll be gone by morning and I will  _ never _ hear from you again,” Hermione feels tears well in her eyes but she pushes them down before her favorite teacher sees them.

“Thank you, professor, you won’t see me or Bella again, thank you for this chance at least.” She leaves the room in a rush, not wanting to give the woman any reason to call aurors.

The meeting didn’t go as well as Hermione would’ve expected, but Bella is sitting at the head table, in the middle where the headmaster would sit at a meal. Hermione’s footfalls echo over the stone floor, the dining hall nowhere near the grand room she always remembered it as. She can’t help the hot tears that fall silently from her eyes, welling up and then trailing down her face in large, messy drops. As soon as Bella sees she’s crying, she freezes up.

“Hermione? What’s wrong?” She manages to ask, still not sure how to deal with crying.

“Nothing, I’m fine, I just-” her voice trails off, breaking into sobs she couldn’t even feel coming before they hit. Bella steps down from her spot, suddenly feeling silly for taking such a petty seat. She makes her way over to the crying girl, guiding her to a bench of a long table running the length of the hall.

“I can’t stay,” Hermione says after a few big breaths to regain her composure.

“Nonsense, is this because of me? I can talk to her, I swear I’ll get you your spot here if this is to do with me.” Bella says, not sure how to make her feel better, but hell bent on trying.

“No, no. It’s not you, Bella.” Hermione takes another gulping breath, holding off another wave of tears, “I can’t stay because it’s dark magic that brought me back, and she doesn’t want anyone trying it with any of the other recently dead. She says Hogwarts can’t condone magic of the type, even if it was done unknowingly.”

“So she’d turn away her own student? She can’t do that!” 

“Bella, you have to look at it from her perspective, you also don’t have to be so protective, I’m okay, I’ll be okay,” the last few words sound more like she’s trying to convince herself than Bella.

“I just feel a bit guilty for bringing you back here is all,”

“Well you don’t have to, I’m glad to be back. McGonagall said we could stay in one of the empty classrooms until the morning, and then we’ll have to be on our way.”

An uneasy feeling settles over Bella as they make their way to the classroom, a room specified by McGonagall, filled to the brim with dusty old textbooks and broken furniture. They make their beds out of the sheets covering some of the furniture.

“Are you sure that staying where she told us to is a good idea, pet?” Bella asks, settling down on the floor.

“I don’t know, but I do know that I don’t want to risk the aurors being called, so I’m doing everything just how she says to.” Hermione says, rolling over and pulling an old sheet over her.

The morning arrives with both of them being jolted awake to the sound of banging on the classroom door.

“Get behind me,” Bella says, watching the door unlock and a ton of rough looking characters pour in. Wands pointed directly at her. A flick of her hand has the shadow of the man in front yank him off his feet. She pulls the shadows from all of the surrounding furniture, having them all coalesce into a large ball between her and the attackers. There’s only one way out of this room and they’re blocking it. The ball of shadow quickly reshapes into smaller tendrils, wrapping around wand hands and throats before any of the attackers have the ability to toss a spell their way. Hermione peers out from behind the demon and sees Harry and Ron, Harry standing near the middle and Ron, well, Ron was on his face in the floor.

“Bella,” Hermione whispers, “get rid of all but the redhead on his face and the one with the broken glasses.” Bella has the tendrils toss all but those two out the window. 

“Alright, but we don’t have long, they’ll regroup, it's only the second story up here.”

“I won’t be a minute.” Hermione says, stomping over to the boys, “Now you two are going to show me how you would sneak around this castle or I’ll have Bella kill all of your auror friends.” 

“Whoa, ‘Mione, is that you?” Ron asks, groaning as he picks himself up off the floor.

“Yes, now tell me how to get out of this damned school before I kill someone,” She grabs a wand off the floor, yanking Ron in front of her and holding the wand to his throat. 

“‘Mione?” he squeaks out.

“Hush, I won’t hesitate to kill you,” That shuts him up quickly. Hermione has no clue what she’s doing, but it seems to be working because Harry is listening.

Harry takes the lead, running up the stairs and to the statue of the one-eyed witch. Yelling can be heard on the second floor, they must’ve realized they’re missing already.

“Alright, here you are, we have to go before we’re caught,” Harry turns to Hermione, “I don’t know what happened, or how you got back, but try to write to me,”

“Harry, what are you doing? She’s crazy,” Ron says, but Hermione shoos them down the stairs before they can argue any more.

“Hermione I really mean it, I’ll be waiting to hear from you,” Harry says, turning around one more time before turning down a corridor and disappearing from view.

As soon as they’re down the passageway and in the cellar of Honeydukes, Hermione starts to cry again. Bella sits against the wall, tired from the energy that shadow manipulation takes. After she regains some of her strength, she looks at Hermione. 

“Well this has been quite an adventure but I’m afraid we need to split up, it’ll be harder for them to find the both of us if we’re not together,” Hermione looks at her with doe-eyes.

“You’re leaving me too?” Before Bella can even open her mouth to respond Hermione breaks down even more. Bella rushes over, guiding Hermione to sit down on a large crate and then taking a seat beside her. 

“No, I won’t leave you if you really don’t want me to, pet. Having me around could cause trouble for you though.”

“Everyone I know already wants me dead again, I don’t think being with you is going to cause me any more trouble,” Hermione sniffs, pulling herself together, “besides, I really don’t want to be alone right now.”

“Well, then that’s that settled,” Bella says, she tries her best to not seem freaked out by all the tears this past day. This has to be emotionally overwhelming for this poor girl.

“That’s not all, I can’t believe I did that to Ron, I should write a letter of apology or something.” Hermione says, staring at her hands like they’re the most interesting things in the world.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,”

“Why? Shouldn’t I apologize for what I did?” Hermione finally looks up from her hands.

“I’m no moral compass, and I can’t tell you what’s right, but I can tell you that he thinks you’re crazy, he may find a way to track you if he wants to.” It’s Bella’s turn to find her own hands interesting.

“What if I wrote Harry? He asked me to,” Hermione seems to perk up at her idea, but Bella shakes her head.

“It could be a trap, we have to be cautious, pet.” Hermione scowls, whether at the nickname or at Bella’s overly cautious nature, Bella doesn’t know.

“Okay, but what are we going to do now, we can’t stay down here, basically the whole wizarding world is going to be looking for us.” 

“Well, I think I can go visit an old friend without worrying about being ratted out. I’m sure you know them,” Bella says, standing from her seat on the crate. “Lets see if I can remember how to do this,” before Hermione knows it, she can feel the tell-tale signs of apparition. When they land, Hermione looks at her with wonder.

“How did you even do that? You’re a demon, not a wizard,” Hermione says before looking up at where they are. “Why are we here of all places, they hate me, they can’t help.” Hermione stares up at the looming Malfoy Manor.

“Oh, my sister lives here.” Bella says as if that’s not a huge bombshell dropped on Hermione’s head.

“But you’re a demon, why would you have family here?”

“I can explain more to you later, but does the name Bellatrix Lestrange ring any bells to you?” 


	2. French Countryside

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this took 10 years to write and I've changed a lot of the original plan but I really love what I'm planning so y'all might actually get some updates before the world ends. Um, that's about it, thanks for sticking around y'all.

“... does the name Bellatrix Lestrange ring any bells to you?” 

Hermione’s mind reels at the question. Of course the name rings bells, she was the Dark Lord’s right hand. But she was dead, she was caught and killed after Voldemort had been defeated. 

“But, she’s dead, you can’t- I mean- “ Hermione trails off, not knowing how to form her thoughts into a coherent sentence, hell, she was barely able to form a coherent thought.

“Let’s go inside, pet, you can have a cup of tea and I’ll explain what I can.”

“You mean what you want?” Hermione asks, her voice low.

“Pardon?” Bella asks, not sure she heard her correctly.

“You just tell me what you want me to hear, never the whole truth, just enough to make me feel like I’m not completely in the dark. I was dead! I could have stayed there! Why did you save me in the first place?” Hermione turns on her heel. “Well I won’t be lied to anymore, I’ll go off on my own, at least I don’t have to worry about a demon death eater trying to deceive me.” 

Bella reaches out to touch her shoulder but before her hand rests for even a millisecond, Hermione swats it away and whips her head around.

“_Don’t_ _touch me,_” Hermione growls. Bella can see the tears welling in the girl’s eyes, well hidden behind the fiery glare. 

“Alright, but just remember, you have no clue where you are or where you’re going, pet.” With that Bella turns and stomps toward the gates of the manor, ready to see her sister and nephew again and be rid of the insufferable twit who somehow roped her into letting her tag along.

“Wait,” Bella hears Hermione call from behind her, footsteps quickly catching up to her.

“Realized what a bad idea it is to run off on your own, pet?” She asks as Hermione walks alongside her, a smug smile on her face.

“Yes, I did, I’m going to hope your sister is a bit more personable than you and see if she’ll help me get to the muggle world.” 

The manor is just as Hermione would have expected, cold and sparsely decorated. The things that do decorate the entrance hall probably cost more than she could get for her own soul.

“Cissy? Are you home?” Bella asks in a sing-song voice, her words echoing through the house.

“Bella? Is that you?” Comes an excited voice from somewhere in the manor. In just a few seconds Narcissa Malfoy is in the hall, a flash of emerald green robes and blonde hair rushes at Bella. “I thought you were- how are you- Bella, what the hell?” Hermione can hear the tears in her voice plainly.

“I know Cissy, I’m so sorry I didn’t come see you earlier, I was going to but-”

“Oh don’t worry about it, I just can’t believe you’re alive, it’s been years!” When they finally gain their composure, Narcissa turns her attention to Hermione.

“Who’s this?” She asks, looking at Hermione, clearly recognizing her. 

“A traveling companion, if you will,” is Bella’s only reply. Hermione scoffs at this.

“Hermione Granger, ma’am, I went to school with Draco,” a look of realization mixed with mild disgust spreads across Narcisssa’s face, a halfhearted “oh” is all the response her introduction gets.

Hermione is mostly ignored throughout the rest of their conversation. After the greeting with her sister, Narcissa went right back to being the cold, calculated woman Hermione had only met a handful of times over her years as Draco’s classmate. Her affection for her family is obvious, but she makes it clear that it isn’t necessarily extended to anyone else. Finally, Narcissa turns to Hermione.

“So, your guest room is across from Bella's. She knows where it is. You can follow her and she’ll show you. I’ll have the elves make breakfast and I’ll see you back in an hour,” Narcissa says, not leaving any room for argument. Hermione turns to look at Bella who seems conflicted. She looks happy to see her sister, but when she makes eye contact with Hermione her face falls and looks almost guilty. She heads up the staircase and Hermione follows, thankful that Bella isn’t trying to make conversation for once. 

The guest room is decorated in a deep purple that goes well with the dark wood tones of the furniture, it’s warmer than the rest of the house, but a far cry from what she’d consider cozy. Even so, she’s thankful that Narcissa would let her stay just because Bellatrix said she was trustworthy. Upon exploring, Hermione finds an empty closet and an ensuite bathroom, so she decides to run herself a bath. As she gets in, the warm water helps to relieve the stiffness from sleeping on a stone floor the night before. Hermione realizes that she hasn’t taken a bath in the months that she’s been in hell, nor has she eaten anything. The idea of food is an enticing one, and she’s glad that breakfast is less than an hour away.

Hermione stays in the bathtub until the water has gone cold and her fingers and toes have pruned up. She hadn’t thought about what she’d wear after she got out of the bath, but she figured she could quickly magic her clothes clean. She reaches to grab her wand and realizes she must’ve lost it when she died. Considering she has the clothes she’d been wearing, that must have something to do with it. Eventually, she gives up searching for fresh clothes in the closet and dresser and decides to do what she’d been trying to avoid. She takes a deep breath, grabs the bathrobe off the hook on the wall, and walks across the hall to knock on Bella’s door.

The door swings open. “Can I help you?” Bella asks, her wet hair and fresh clothes show she had the same idea as Hermione on the bath front. 

“You don’t happen to have spare clothes, do you? I don’t have any and I don’t want to put on dirty clothes,” Hermione asks, annoyed that she has to ask something of Bellatrix. She closes the door and Hermione stands there, dumbfounded for a moment before she starts to go back to her room. Bella’s door opens again and Hermione turns in time to catch a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt.

“Next time, maybe try saying please,” Bella says, and before Hermione can say another word, the door is shut. She goes back to her room to change into the clothes. The pants are a little short on her, but otherwise, they fit fine. Hermione is a little confused as to why Bella has muggle pajamas, or even how she has clothes here considering how long she’s been dead, but maybe Narcissa kept them. People do weird things when people die.

Though Hermione has no clue how much time has passed since she went to her room, she decides to head down to the kitchen and see if it’s time to eat. As soon as she gets out of the hallway, she realizes how hopelessly lost she is. She does eventually find the staircase though. Narcissa is no longer in the entryway, so that means there’s a guessing game of where the kitchen would be. She walks through the archway to what she can only assume is the dining room, with its long table and grand chairs. It looks like it hasn’t been touched in months. A door at the back of the large room looks promising, so Hermione walks over to it and pushes. It swings open and she smells bacon frying. It makes her heart drop a little to see the elves cooking, but before she can think, Narcissa comes in behind her and ushers her over to the breakfast nook.

“Bella is late, as usual. You’d think she’d have changed a little more after all these years,” she says, sitting down and eyeing the door with a small smile hidden behind her exasperated expression. She turns to look at Hermione. “So, how did you two meet?”

“Well, I’m not sure what Bella has told you…” Hermione starts, trying to stall until Bella gets here, “did she tell you about the uh… death thing?”

“Death? Do you mean you met in the Death Eaters. I don’t think I remember you.”

“No, I mean that she’s dead-”

“At least as far as anyone else knows.” Bella waltzes in, shooting Hermione a withering look that her sister doesn’t seem to notice, “am I late?” 

“Not too terribly, let’s eat,” Narcissa says, Hermione finally feels like she can breathe, no longer trying to fumble her way through an explanation.

“Hermione’s family bought the land I was living on in the French Countryside with the intention of fixing it up as a vacation home. When she found me, they were busy with work and couldn’t get to the renovations for a couple of months, so they left her in charge. She let me stay with her on the condition that I help,” Bella frowns, thinking for a moment, “by that point, I couldn’t say no. I’d grown pretty fond of bothering her and really didn’t want to move again, so I decided to stay.” she smiles to herself, apparently proud of the elaborate story she’d just spun from nothing.

“So,” Bella says, changing the subject quickly, “Hermione wants your help getting to the muggle world. She wants to go off on her own, something about not living off her parents’ money anymore, very muggle-y of her if you ask me.” Bella says. Hermione glares at her.

“I could have told her that part myself, you know,” Hermione says.

“Well you hadn’t, I just thought I’d help,” Bella says, shrugging off the rude tone of her voice.

“I can get you a portkey to a muggle town, but I don’t know if a portkey is a good idea considering the Auror situation, those places are always packed.” Narcissa pauses to think. “You don’t happen to know how to apparate, do you?” 

“I did learn how to, but without a wand, I’m pretty much useless,” Hermione says, annoyed at her own helplessness, not even sure where she’d go from a muggle town. She could get a job, but she hadn’t even graduated from Hogwarts, let alone a muggle school, there’d be no way to really get a job.

“Well, we’ll just have to see what we can do. It’s probably best for you two to lay low for a while anyway. There’s no doubt that showing your faces in public would mean arrest, especially you,” Narcissa says, turning to Bella when she says the last two words.

“Disguises could be fun,” Bella says. Hermione can’t understand how nothing is serious to this woman. She doesn’t want an argument though so she keeps her thoughts to herself. 

“I guess laying low is our best bet then,” Hermione says, pretending that she didn’t hear Bella’s comment. “Thank you for your help, Ma’am,” Hermione says, stumbling over the last word, not quite sure what to call the woman.

“Of course,” Narcissa says, looking at Hermione with a scrutinizing expression on her face, “do you not have anything of your own to wear?” Hermione blushes, remembering that she’s wearing a set of Bella’s pajamas.

“No, we both set out rather ill-equipped for travel,” she says, not sure now what Bellatrix wants her sister to know.

“That’s alright, I think I’ll be able to go to town today and find you some clothes, just tell me what size robes you wear and I can head off,” Hermione doesn’t really want robes, feeling more comfortable in muggle clothes, but she’s not about to argue with someone offering to buy her clothes.

Finally back in her room, Hermione flops down on the bed which is surprisingly soft and warm given its austere appearance. How Bella can say so little yet be so infuriating is beyond her, but now that she has nothing to do, she finds herself wanting to go knock on her door for some company. She shakes her head. She’s just used Bella being there all the time, some alone time would actually be great. There’s a small bookcase in the corner and Hermione finds something to read. Sitting down in the chair by the window, she loses herself in the words, not realizing how much she’d missed being immersed in another world. She only comes up for air when there’s a knock at her door.

“Here are a couple of outfits,” Narcissa says when Hermione opens the door. “I hope they’re to your liking, I chose the colors I thought would best suit you,” She hands over a bag.

“Thank you so much,” Hermione says, grateful that she won’t be wearing Bella’s clothes anymore.

“Of course. You aren’t confined to your room, you know, though I suggest steering clear of the library if you wish to avoid my sister.” Narcissa walks away with a small smile.

Hermione sighs, unpacking the clothes from the bag, carefully putting them in the empty drawers. There is barely enough to fill a drawer, but that will likely be a positive thing until she finds a more permanent residence. 

Hermione changes into a set of navy blue robes, they’re a bit fancier than what you’d expect for everyday wear but it’s not surprising considering who bought them. She carefully sets Bella’s clothes on the chair in the corner, planning to have them washed and returned to her somehow.

Putting her shoes on, she decides to go for a walk in the garden. It’ll likely be too cold soon to be outside much, but until then, she might as well enjoy it. Finding her way to the stairs this time is a bit easier. She remembers seeing a backdoor out the kitchen, so she decides to go out that way instead of through the front. 

The sun shines pretty brightly, but it can’t beat the chill of the wind, and Hermione is glad she decided to wear the warmer set of robes Narcissa bought. There are dormant plants lining a footpath that leads to a little shelter. It would be a lovely place for tea on a warmer day. The plants gradually change and she finds herself wondering what it must be like to be here in the spring when the flowers are in bloom and the plants are putting out bright green growth. Paths spiral off in all different directions. Hermione takes one of them, and after walking a short way, she finds herself at a garden shed that seems like it hasn’t been touched in years. The door is ajar and she sees children’s toys, faded and covered in cobwebs. She smiles to herself, it must have been a playhouse for Draco when he was younger. She wants to follow the path further but hears footsteps behind her almost as soon as she starts walking again.

“Hermione.” She sighs at the sound of Bella’s voice. “I need to talk to you.” 

“About what?” she snaps, whipping around to look at her.

“Calm down, I’m just here to apologize,” Bella says, trying to keep her composure. Hermione’s emotional outbursts are hard to handle, but for the sake of peace, she wants to apologize. Hopefully, Hermione will accept it.

“Sorry,” Hermione mutters, barely loud enough for Bella to hear. She looks down at her feet, not quite sure why she can’t stop being so angry.

“Look, I shouldn’t have lied. I should have told you who I was, but I also want you to know that I’m not going to hurt you. I just want to help you. I feel like that’s my responsibility since I’m the reason you’re here. Okay?” Bella says, watching Hermione’s face very carefully.

“Yeah, it’s alright. I’m sorry for being so angry lately. I think this has all just been so overwhelming. I forgive you, just please don’t do it again.” Bella wants to hug her, or say something. But nothing seems right, so she turns to go.

“Where are you going?” Hermione asks.

“I was gonna go find a book in the library, I missed reading during your punishment,” Bella says as Hermione catches up to walk beside her.


	3. NIghtmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione has nightmares, it got a little bit gay during this chapter, good luck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I got this posted a lot faster than any of my updates have ever been before. I was too excited to wait to post it so here it is. I can't promise that I'll be posting this often all the time, but I do hope I stay on a roll with this fic.

Spending the past couple of days in the library has given Hermione time to get to know Bellatrix. Those few months in Hell weren’t nearly enough for her to really know her, and it would be lying to say that she didn’t really want to hear about how the dark witch had ended up a demon. Honestly, she finds herself wanting to know everything there is to know about the woman’s past, present, and future. Though at this point, she seems to be more worried about Hermione’s future and the great uncertainty that it seems to be.

Bellatrix seems to think there has to be a way to fix whatever is going on with Hermione, but Hermione isn’t so sure. Someone coming back from the dead has barely been heard of, and if it has, it’s never ended well. Bella believes that the overwhelming anger Hermione feels out of nowhere has to do with her soul being torn between two worlds. Hermione is just busy being angry with herself when she can think straight. This woman has done nothing but support and help her, but a voice in her head makes her so angry at her for the smallest reasons. The violent thoughts have been the worst of it though, the idea that this would make her want to hurt someone who’s been so kind to her makes her almost sick to her stomach. Maybe if she were as horrible as the purebloods at school had been, she wouldn’t push the thoughts away as much. As it stands though, she’s constantly in a mental battle with herself. Bellatrix doesn’t deserve this and most definitely does not have to help Hermoine handle this. But here she is, making sure that Hermione will be okay. They get to the hallway where their rooms are and Hermione turns to her.

“Thank you, Bella, for trying so hard to help me, I’m so sorry about everything,” she says, still feeling terrible for treating her the way she has been.

“Don’t worry about it pet, just get some sleep, okay? Whatever you’re dealing with really seems to exhaust you,” Bella says before going into her room and closing the door, leaving Hermione no choice but to retire to her own room. She changes into the sweatpants and t-shirt that Bella had let her borrow their first day here. They’re soft and Hermione isn’t quite comfortable sleeping in her underwear in such an unfamiliar place. She turns down the bed that the house elves remade after she made it herself this morning. She curls up between the duvet and the silk sheets and falls asleep not long after.

Whispers scrape at her eardrums. The dark, damp room is filled with quiet echoes of whatever is trying to tell her something. Looking around the room though, there’s no one there. It appears empty but not lonely, not when she feels so cramped in the cavernous room. She can feel the presence of someone else here. 

Before she can take a step, cold, black goo seeps into a pool at her feet, slowly climbing up her legs. The burning sets in almost as soon as it touches her ankles. She tries to wipe it off but it only spreads to her hands, burning, eating, corroding her body. She claws at it, trying to peel it off her skin, but only succeeds in helping its mission to get through her skin, to something inside of her.

“How did you get away from us?” She hears a shrill voice echo through the cavern, the first voice that’d said anything she could make out. “Your pretty soul was ours, who helped you?” 

Hermione is paralyzed with fear, but she feels the suffocating liquid crawling up her neck. If she doesn’t scream now, no one will help her, no one will come. She’ll be damned to feeling this fluid slowly eat at her. So she opens her mouth and lets out the most terrifying scream she can muster, and once she starts, she doesn’t stop. She doesn’t stop when she hears her name called over and over, nor when she feels the touch of another person. No, she only stops when the burning subsides. She finally opens her eyes and stares into the eyes of a demon, but this isn’t Hell, these eyes are filled with worry.

“Bella?” When she realizes who it is, she lets herself relax a little, lets the sobs come rolling in. At some point, the lights come on, showing the scratches on her arms as she holds tightly onto Bellatrix like a helpless child. When Hermione has calmed down enough to catch her breath, Bella lessens her grip but still keeps the girl close to her. She hadn’t realized how tightly she’d been holding her as if she might just slip through her fingertips.

“What was that about, pet? What happened?” she asks. This hasn’t happened before and she’s worried that this could have to do with her coming back. 

“I think it was just a nightmare, I think I’m okay,” Hermione says between gulps of air. She knows she’s not okay, but she can’t have her worrying about her.

“Hermione, don’t lie. I know what it sounds like when someone wakes up from a nightmare. Screaming like that, that’s something else entirely.” Bella shifts to sit beside Hermione now that the girl has finally stopped shaking. “Now, what was it?” 

Hermione wants to take the woman’s hand, desperately wanting something to help her feel grounded, but it could be taken the wrong way. “I was in this cavern and there were voices whispering. Then this black goo started consuming me and a voice was asking who helped me.” As she says it aloud, she begins to worry that it was a lot more than a nightmare.

“So they don’t know it was me,” Bella says, worried about what this could mean for Hermione. She knew the demons weren’t allowed to come to the human world and most wouldn’t. She had been afraid she’d be the one with these crazy dreams and outbursts. Maybe a soul leaving Hell was worse, maybe it was torn between its home and its fate.

“So this is something bad?” Hermione asks, worried that she already knows the answer.

“It looks that way, but don’t worry, we’ll find a way to help you. I won’t let anything happen to you.” The dark witch’s comforting words make Hermione feel much safer.

Bella sits in the library with Hermione in one of the adjacent chairs. She reads through a book on death and has a stack of even more books of various types of magic sitting in front of her. Hermione has one of the books but she keeps getting caught up and emotional about it. Despite Bella’s protests that she shouldn’t be doing this if it upsets her, Hermione keeps it up, not wanting Bella to be the only one searching for a fix.

Narcissa walks in with a serious look on her face. “Bellatrix, can I talk to you alone?” she asks, posing it like a question, but Bella knows better. 

“Sure.” She gets up and sets the book down, following her younger sister out of the room. 

“You love that girl, don’t you?” Narcissa asks as soon as they’re out of earshot of Hermione. Bella isn’t sure whether to agree or disagree. If she denies it, she’ll surely be questioned continuously by her sister, but if she agrees, it’d be a lie. At least she thinks it’d be a lie. Apparently, spending all that time thinking was the wrong answer, because Narcissa uses it to draw her own conclusion.

“Bellatrix Lestrange, I thought you were better than this.” Narcissa faces her, glaring daggers. Bella never could handle being called out by one of her sisters, but this wasn’t fair. She’d done nothing wrong. “She’s a filthy mudblood for fuck’s sake. I let her in my home because it was clear she was important to you, but if you think for a moment that I will condone your relationship, you’re very mistaken.” At this point, she’s pacing, anger too much for her to handle just standing still.

“Cissa, it’s not what you think,” Bellatrix says, hoping she’ll drop the subject.

“What is it then? Because, to me, it looks like you’ve lost your bloody mind. You have a husband withering away in Azkaban and you’re god knows where screwing some mudblood witch who’s half your age!” Narcissa finally stops pacing and Bellatrix is surprised at the mention of her husband, she hadn’t really thought much about him while she was in Hell. “Well if you think that I’d allow this in my house, you’ll quickie learn otherwise”

“Cissa, you know I couldn’t date a mudblood, don’t you?” The slur feels foreign in her mouth. Another thing she really hadn’t thought much about in Hell was blood status. It didn’t cross her mind that Hermione was a muggle-born, she had just been excited to have someone from the wizarding world assigned to her. It had been nice to have something in common with the girl.

“Well, what else was I supposed to think?” Narcissa asks, letting out a sigh somewhere in between relief and exasperation. “Do you not realize that you just waltzed in here without giving me anything to work with? I haven’t seen you in years, I thought you were dead. Hell, I thought we buried you, but then you show up with a mudblood on your arm and some barely-believable story about the French countryside. I’m glad you’re back Bella, but you can’t keep lying to me and expecting me to believe you. You know I know you better than anyone else.” Narcissa finally calms down a bit, resting her back against the same wall Bella is leaning against before she slides down it and hits the floor with a huff. It reminds Bella so much of when they were children and they’d just narrowly escaped some punishment from their father. Guilt settles heavily in Bella’s chest, knowing she hurt her sister is one of the worst feelings.

“Look, Cissy, I can’t tell you everything. As much as I wish I could, the less you know the better when it comes to mine and Hermione’s situation. I will, however, tell you that there is nothing going on between Hermione and me and I’m just helping her because she’s very sick.” The last part was nearly a blatant lie, despite how much she wants to tell herself it’s true. Sure, maybe there is a sense of responsibility because she’s the reason Hermione is even here, but that really hasn’t stopped her before. Something about the girl has her attached in a way she’s never been before.

“Okay, if that’s honestly all you can tell me, whatever. But if having you here puts me in danger, I can’t have you staying here,” Narcissa says, the sad look in her eyes making it clear she doesn’t want to lose her sister right after she got her back.

“I understand, but can we have a week? I think I’m onto something that can help her in the library,” Bella pleads, knowing that her sister may not say yes and they could be tossed back to square one.

“Fine,” Narcissa says and Bella breathes a sigh of relief. “I assume I’m not allowed to know why St. Mungos can’t treat her?” she asks. Bella feels the pang of guilt again but puts on a grin instead of showing it.

“You catch on fast, Cissy,” Bella says. She pushes herself up off the wall and walks towards the doors of the library.

“Bella,” Narcissa says, prompting her sister to stop and turn to look at her, “you have one week, okay?” Bella just nods, not sure what else to do before walking back and joining Hermione.

Hermione is asleep in her chair when Bella comes back into the room. Seeing her sleep peacefully after last night is a calming sight to the demon. She takes a throw blanket off of one of the couches in the library and lays it gently over the girl, careful not to wake her. She plops down in her chair, looking at the book she’d been reading before her sister called her out of the room. There really hadn’t been anything worth their time in it, but that seems to be a common trend with these books. The only example she’s ever seen of people coming back from death was in  _ The Tales of Beedle the Bard _ with the resurrection stone, and every wizard has heard that story. Despite what she told Narcissa, she really has no clue where to even look, and she’s most definitely not onto something. Maybe it really is a futile search for something that doesn’t exist, but Bellatrix is determined to find a way to save the girl. She owes her at least that.

Bella’s research is interrupted by Hermione muttering in her sleep. She doesn’t want to wake her, but this could be another nightmare. Her thoughts are confirmed when Hermione starts scratching at her skin again like she had the night before. 

“Hermione,” Bella says, moving to kneel beside her chair. “Hermione, you need to wake up.” She gently taps her but quickly realizes she’ll have to be more adamant if she wants Hermione to wake up. She grabs onto her shoulders and shakes, trying to make sure her head doesn’t jerk around too much. After some more shaking and more calling her name, Hermione’s eyes flutter open. For a split second, they’re black as tar-- even the whites are covered in the substance Hermione had described from her earlier dream. When she blinks though, her eyes are their normal brown.

“I had another one, Bella.” Hermione’s voice wavers, she doesn’t know what to do and she always feels awkward clinging to the older witch for support. She’s terrified she’ll appear overbearing. She compromises and pulls her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them.

“Hermione, your eyes were black. I’m afraid these are more harmful than just nightmares,” Bella says, going to the bookshelves to find a book on potions. “Would you be alright with taking a Wideye potion? Just until we can find a way to stop all this. It may be uncomfortable to stay awake, but I’m terrified to even imagine what could happen if we let it go unchecked.” 

“Yeah, I think I can handle the Wideye potion, I don’t think it’s dangerous in back to back doses either, is it?”

Hermione grimaces as she drinks the Wideye potion in a single gulp. It’s bitter and the aftertaste is horrendous, but as soon as it passes her lips, she feels wide awake. She’s nowhere near focused though, not like Bellatrix has been. Her nose has been buried in one book or another for the entire time she’s been awake. She doesn’t seem to have an off switch and Hermione worries that she’ll overwork herself. Still, it’s nice to watch the woman read, something about her unguarded posture and the way her eyes light up when she thinks she’s found a lead. 

Slowly, the pile of already read books gets taller but the books with possible leads are few and far between, a pile of about seven. How Bellatrix can read so much so fast is beyond Hermione. Even when she had been in school she hadn’t been able to read for so many hours straight. When Bella has gone through all of the books in the pile in front of her, the sun has come up again after setting. Hermione is starting to get tired, but she knows that she can’t go to sleep now.

“Bella, why don’t you take a break?” Hermione asks, worried at the dark circles under the demon’s eyes. Hermione doesn’t know if demons are supposed to sleep, but whether or not they do, Bellatrix has clearly overexerted herself.

“I have to find this Hermione,” she grumbles, barely enunciating her words enough to make out.

“It’ll be here after you rest, Bella. You’re not going to be able to help at all if you keep overworking yourself like this.” Hermione doesn’t know exactly if that’s true, she doesn’t know how much is too much for a demon, but she does know that days like this at Hogwarts always ended in worse grades and terrible headaches.

“Fine, but wake me up in an hour.” Bella curls up in the chair, yawning before immediately falling asleep. Hermione can’t help but smile at the sleeping woman before heading to the kitchen to see about something to eat and to get another dose of the Wideye potion.

Around eight hours after Bella went to sleep, she wakes up. She was going to wake her up in an hour as she’d asked, but she didn’t want to wake a literal sleeping demon. That and she didn’t think an hour would be enough sleep. Hermione started reading through the books that Bella had put in the “leads” pile, not really sure what she was supposed to be looking for. Her attempts had been incredibly frustrating. Most of the books were nearly nonsense, and that’s saying a lot coming from Hermione. Half of them were so old she worried they’d crumble to dust in her hands.

“Why didn’t you wake me?!” Bella jumps off the chair, looking at the time.

“I thought you needed rest,” Hermione says indignantly.

“How do you think I’m going to fix this if I just sit here and sleep constantly?” Bella asks, lowering her tone a bit from her first question, but still clearly angry.

“Look, I’m sorry, but it could wait a few more hours for you to sleep a little more.” Hermione gets defensive, trying to push the voice in her head back, knowing that Bella only means the best. She just wants to make sure she’s okay, but the temptation to start yelling and screaming at the woman for the smallest reason is hard to resist.

“Hermione, thank you, but we don’t have a lot of time,” Bellatrix says, her tone softening as she sees Hermione struggling with another outburst. She’s been trying her best to avoid them, and Bella can really see that. She steps closer, taking Hermione’s hand in hers. “I swear I’m okay, I just want to make sure you will be too.” Hermione feels chills shoot up her arm from where Bella is holding her hand, but she can’t pull away. She just stares into those black eyes, almost getting lost for a moment before Bellatrix steps away again. 

“I- thank you, Bella,” Hermione says, not sure what else to say.

“Okay, back to business. I had an idea, right before you made me go to sleep,” Bella says, walking between some of the bookshelves and bringing back an armful of demonology books. It’s not a common area of study, so the books are limited, but she does find plenty to start out with. She retreats further into the library and brings out a few books for healers.

“I’ve never been too good at this healer mess, I’m going to go pay my sister a little visit,” Bella says after about two hours of trying to decipher one of the books. She had been worried this would be the case. 

“Narcissa is here I thought,” Hermione says before it dawns on her, she’s talking about the estranged sister, Andromeda. “Oh, Andromeda, the one who married a muggle-born, right?” Bella just nods in response. 

Hermione follows her while she gets ready to floo to her sister’s house, wanting to ask questions but not really sure what to ask.

“I need to ask Narcissa her address, don’t I?” Bellatrix muses to herself before disappearing into another room, presumably to find her youngest sister. Hermione doesn’t want to follow her, she’s gotten the distinct impression lately that Narcissa is in no way her biggest fan.

“Cissa, what’s Andy’s address?” Bellatrix asks her sister. The look on the other woman’s face is enough to almost make her start laughing.

“Why do you need to know that? She’s a blood traitor, she didn’t even come to your funeral.” Narcissa seems appalled that Bella would even ask.

“I need her help. Besides, that one clearly didn’t stick, she can come to the next one,” Bellatrix jokes, ignoring her sister’s cutting glare.

“Fine.” Narcissa flips through some parchment before pulling out a piece of paper and handing it to the witch. “You never cease to amaze me, Bellatrix,” she says with a heavy sigh.

Taking the floo system to her sister’s house is something Bella has never done before, but it’s incredibly important that she talks with her. When she slides out of the fireplace, she takes a less-than-graceful tumble onto the floor of a dark living room and, for a moment, Bella wonders if they are out. A young woman with pink hair walks past the archway into the living room and Bellatrix sees her chance.

“Excuse me?” she says, trying to make sure she dusts the ash off of her already wrinkled outfit. She curses herself for not changing into something a little nicer.

“You have got to be kidding me. Mum!” The woman shouts up the stairs. Bella gathers that she must be the little baby her sister had sent her a picture of so many years ago. Andromeda comes running down the stairs, afraid that something’s gone wrong. “Please tell me this is not who I think it is.”

“Well that’s no way to greet your aunty Bella, is it Nymphadora?” Bellatrix says, putting on the same taunting voice that she’d used against her sister on countless occasions when they were younger.

“Don’t call me that,” Nymphadora says, glaring at the woman who claims to be her aunt. Andromeda comes to stand in the archway, bracing herself against the frame with her mouth agape at the sight of her sister. She turns the lights on to get a better look. It’s her, there’s no doubt about it, but how? She had died and Andromeda couldn’t handle showing her face at the funeral. Now, she can’t decide whether she should scream,cry, run away and call the Aurors, or tackle her favorite sister in a hug.

“Bella, it’s really you, isn’t it?” She’s finally able to ask, finally able to articulate a sentence from all the thoughts and questions running through her mind.

“It is.” Now it’s Bella’s turn to be uncertain of what to do. The last time she saw Andromeda, she had tossed her a bag of some clothes and told her to run, giving her a head start to get away from a father that was sure to kill her if he could find her. 

Finally, Andromeda steps forward, touching her sister’s face before pulling her into a hug. Tears sting her eyes as Bella hugs her back.“What happened? How are you here?” Andromeda asks, bringing Bellatrix to the kitchen and putting the tea kettle on to boil.

Bellatrix explains the whole situation, from her death to how she became a demon to how she escaped hell. “Now this girl who I brought back, she’s having outbursts or something. She’ll get angry over the smallest things. I can see the violence in her eyes and I can see her battling with herself to stop it. On top of that, she’s recently started having nightmares. She woke up from one yesterday and her eyes were black. I’m afraid that if I don’t do anything, I’m going to lose her,” Bella says, surprised at her own phrasing. It’s accurate though, the idea of losing the girl is somehow unbearable. “I was wondering if there was anything you know. I know it’s not a common subject but you’re the only person I can think of who may be able to help, please, Andy.” The desperation is clear in Bella’s voice and Andromeda feels for her. It’s the same kind of pleading she did before Bellatrix agreed not to tell their father about her romance with a muggle-born.

“I’ll help where I can, Bella, but this is tricky, and I really don’t think just a healer can do anything about it.” Watching her sister’s face fall makes her wish she could just lie and say it’ll all be okay. Instead she decides to try to lighten the mood a little, “I really do not understand how you manage to get yourself in these situations.” 

Bellatrix gives her sister a weak smile before focusing again on the problem at hand, “Do you know anything about slowing it down? Anything that may work? I think I have an idea about a permanent solution but I need to make sure it’s possible before I even talk to her about if she wants to do it. At this rate, though, I don’t think I’d be able to gather the ingredients before she’s hopeless.” Bellatrix knows how she sounds, how weak she seems, but something about this girl is worth saving, she can feel it in the depths of her being.

“I could have something, give me a moment.” Andromeda heads upstairs just as the kettle begins to boil. Bellatrix takes it upon herself to make the tea while her sister is away from the kitchen. Nymphadora just glares at her from where she leans against the kitchen wall.

“So, what am I supposed to call you, niece?” Bellatrix asks, turning her attention to the young woman. She does look just like a Black.

“My friends call me Tonks, but I’m not sure where that leaves you,” she says, no hint of a joke in her voice. Despite this, Bella decides to laugh.

“You are your mother’s daughter, aren’t you?” She turns back to her tea, realizing that her niece isn’t going to talk to her. Before the silence is unbearable, Andromeda comes back downstairs with four books. All of them on blood magic.

“These are some books I have on things that may slow down whatever’s going on. I don’t think any of them could be a permanent solution, but a couple could be long-term, specifically the blood bond. It allows the people bonded to share negative effects of something. As far as I know, it’ll work with her problem and it’s likely your best shot. The other things I think could help are pretty involved and more than a little dangerous, but all blood magic is. I also thought it best to inform you that this kind of magic will brand you, permanently. Though something tells me that if it’s between branding her and losing her, you’d choose to brand.” The pages are all already marked when Bella takes the books from her sister.

“Honestly, Andy, that’s up to her,” Bella says, letting out a small sigh before letting a grin spread across her face. “I see you’ve never quite dropped the hobby of dancing on the edge of forbidden magic.” All her teasing gets from her sister is a sheepish smile. Bella stands to leave, wanting to get back and crack open these books.

“Don’t forget to send an owl with how it works out!!” Andy calls after her right as she floos back to Malfoy Manor.


End file.
